What if Damon never ignored that call?
by Something Illusory
Summary: —3x13 DE scene as it should of went— One call and that was all it took, really. As soon as that bright device lit up and the name "ELENA" shown across its screen, Damon knew that something was wrong.


One call and that was all it took, really. As soon as that bright device lit up and the name "ELENA" shown across its screen, Damon knew that something was wrong. He wished that it could be explained; but inside of him, somewhere deep and hidden, he felt that there was something happening. Something important he was missing out on.

In front of him was Stefan who stood with tired jealousy in his eyes. Tired because he couldn't fight anymore. He couldn't deny what was right in front of him. She was calling _him. _No matter what was going on - an emergency or just a phone call - she was calling Damon now. As much as that should have given him satisfaction, he couldn't help but feel a little lousy. Especially after tonight's events. His brother was jealous and hurt. But was that really his fault? No. Damon…well, he didn't exactly choose to fall in love with her.

And, well, maybe his brother needed this. He needed to feel hurt after everything he'd done.

"What's wrong?" he whispered worriedly into the cellular device. His legs already carried him through the woods, away from his brother's jealousy and away from the feeling of guilt while looking into his eyes.

Her voice was rough: a sign that she had been (or was) crying. "You need to come over here. It's…Damon, it's Ric."

Ric? Immediately his concern grew feverishly. Now it wasn't simply Elena he needed to worry about, but Ric as well. Granted their friendship had been shaky the past few months, Ric was still Ric. He was still a friend. "I'll be right there. Elena? Are you hurt?"

"No." she sobbed miserably into the phone. "No, I'm not hurt. Just get over here. And fast."

She clicked the phone up, and that was that.

Damon Salvatore had his fair share of blood. He had dealt with bags of it. Buckets. Different blood types. The most powerful smell of blood was Elena's. It was intoxicating, beautiful, and tasted deliciousness. It was the taste of the love he felt for her, no doubt. It's aroma was one of the most powerful he had ever encountered. But then, within a mile of the Gilbert Household, he was hit full force with the smell of blood. And lots of it. Blood that was not delicious, nor welcoming, but blood that was taken from someone's body without their permission. It was the smell of blood that seeps from a body when that body is dying.

When that body is trying everything it can to hold that blood in.

He burst through the door and followed it with his senses, every part of him full alert. "What happened?" he snarled, eyes taking in the scene below him. Elena jumped, the sound of his approach just reaching her ears. Matt and Elena hovered over Alaric's body; which, by the way, was a bloody mess. Damon's ears pounded loudly inside his head.

"He was stabbed. He was losing so much blood, Damon. I had to kill him! I had to kill him!" she sobbed. Beside her, Matt leaned his head against her.

Damon knelt down beside his friend, examining every part of him. His wounds. The blood. His face. He held no pulse whatsoever. No heartbeat. It hit him that Elena was smart to kill him; she was supernatural. Her killing him should have brought him back. Sick images of Elena stabbing him over and over flashed through his head. He gritted his teeth to shove them back where they came from. He took a deep breath, eyes resting on Elena.

Matt's voice, broken and sad, whispered to him. "Bill Forbes is dead."

Damon's gaze switched back to Ric. "You should go. Take care of Caroline and her mother. I'll take care of this."

Matt didn't refuse, only let go of Elena and stood to his feet. "Is Alaric going to be okay?"

Damon caught his eye and nodded slightly. "He should wake up. Go." Now his eyes turned to Elena. It should be known that his eyes were hard and cold as he looked upon his friend in death. How many times had Ric died, now? And still Damon could not get the sight out of his mind. Each time it was like a painful jibe to him. Even with he himself had caused it, it took everything in his power not to turn around and apologize for such an action.

As these cold, hard eyes turned onto Elena they took in her pitiful exterior and turned soft. Their shiny glaze melted and faded away. She stared back and sobbed, blood-stained hands wrapped around him. Damon caught her and held her close. She rested her forehead into the crook of his neck. Here she found refuge. A warm, safe place to be.

Here, in his arms.

It was dark in the hallway now that Matt had gone with the flashlight. They only had one and it pointed to the ceiling just enough so they could make out each other's silhouettes.

He didn't exactly imagine she'd throw herself into his lap, but yet, he understand exactly why she did so. And he held her for that very same reason. This was the human being both of them shared. Elena's guardian. Damon's best friend. There was nobody else that could bring them together like this. Nobody else that they could both mourn wholeheartedly even with the thought that he would soon wake from his death. Nobody else besides maybe Stefan, whom both of them would prefer to follow in death than actually mourn.

"I killed him." she cried, voice shattering on the word 'killed'. He stroked her soft cheek with his thumb, chin rested on the top of her head.

"He'll wake up." he said simply.

Her thin body convulsed with sobbing spasms. It was a moment where nobody wanted to hold the one they loved in their arms. Especially not Damon.

"You'll stay with me until he wakes up, right?" she whispered. "I can't lose anymore family. I don't want to be alone."

"Elena, I will never leave you. You won't ever be alone." he reassured her strongly. "Killing him _saved_ him."

"I just couldn't..there was so much blood. Matt..h-he tried to call 911 but Ric..he had his ring and..oh, god. Damon, I never want to do that. I don't ever want to do something like that again."

Flashbacks came back. He pushed them away again, swallowing a thick knot in his throat. "It's okay." he promised. "You're okay now. He'll wake up. We just need to be patient."

They sat in silence, the warmth of their bodies providing each other with warmth in their hearts. Damon listened to the sound of Alaric's heart and waited patiently for it to begin beating again. Elena sat in his embrace and tried to think of other things besides the blood on her hands, the floor, and Alaric's dead body in front of them in the darkness. Like the fact she was snuggled against Damon.

He was about to suggest they light some candles or move Ric when she spoke aloud. "Talking to Caroline about her father made me realize how much I missed mine."

He couldn't say anything back…mainly because he didn't know what to say. Elena didn't mind, only continued talking.

"I thought of the hardest parts. The easier parts. I'd say easiest, but nothing was easiest. In the end, though…I'm glad he isn't here to see any of them. I'm glad neither of them are here to see what's happened to me and Jeremy."

"They'd be proud." he whispered to her, thumb gliding across her cheek in soothing strokes. She reached up to grab his hand and hold it against her face. "Of both of you. You're both strong kids."

She half-smiled and leaned into the palm of his hand. "I'm eighteen. Hardly a kid." When he said nothing back to her, she decided to press her luck. "How did you feel when your father died?"

"Mixed emotions that were otherwise hard to distinguish." Damon whispered. "I was more concerned about Stefan and myself than what had happened to my father."

They were silent once again, until (once again) she was the one to break that silence. "I can't decide whether or not you're here because I asked you to be..or because you truly care about him."

She feels his lips pull into a smile. "A little of both."

"He's not a lost cause. He thinks he is, but he isn't. We almost lost him tonight, Damon."

"He didn't wake up yet, Elena."

"But he will." she concluded strongly. "I am supernatural and the ring will bring him back to us."

Damon laughed bleakly. "Right."_ Damn, she's cute._

Rather unfortunately, Elena pulled herself from the safety of his arms. He frowned deeply but let her go as she reached over to snatch the flashlight. She was careful where to shine it: mainly not on Ric. So she settled for Damon instead. "We need to move him. And fix the lighting in here."

"And I thought you were rather comfortable in my arms." he snorted. Elena blushed a brilliant pink. She reached up to wipe her eyes only to notice that her hands were still bright red from Ric's blood.

"I need to wash up. Meanwhile - wanna find some candles or something?" she asked softly. Damon nodded. "And thank you. For staying here with me."

He smiled a brilliant row of white teeth. "Always."


End file.
